


Not in the Slightest

by Violetrose93



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Sneaking Out, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11593488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetrose93/pseuds/Violetrose93
Summary: For Rose Weasley, sneaking out of her dormitory in the middle of the night to meet with Scorpius Malfoy had become a common occurence. But tonight, she senses that there's something else on Scorpius's mind. Unfortunately, it's easier to catch smoke than predict what Scorpius is going to do. Even Rose, who knows him best, isn't prepared for what's really on Scorpius's mind.





	Not in the Slightest

**Author's Note:**

> So this is one of my older stories that I'm reposting here, after a few edits. Some of those are in response to CC, but most are just me cleaning up my work. Short and fluffy, with a dash of angsty Scorpius because why not?

             Rose woke up to a light tapping on the window by her bed. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and peered blearily through the windowpane. An elegant gray owl was hovering outside, observing Rose with somber amber eyes as it flapped its wings.

            “Alright,” Rose whispered, nodding at the owl. It bobbed its head once and disappeared, presumably returning to its owner. She grabbed her watch off her bedside table and squinted at the dial, trying to make out the tiny numbers in the weak moonlight.

            _I’ll kill him_ , she thought grimly when she that it was two in the morning. _Doesn’t he realize we have a match tomorrow?_ Still, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, trying not to make too much noise. The last thing she wanted was to wake anyone up and have to explain where she was going at _two in the bloody morning_. Finally, Rose slipped her feet into her shoes and stood up, creeping slowly across the wooden floorboards towards the staircase.

            The common room was deserted, lit by the dying embers from the fireplace. Even with the thick carpet, Rose moved gingerly, wincing whenever the wood underneath popped and groaned. She had just made it to the portrait hole when a sound by the stairwell to the boys’ dormitory stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly, fully expecting to see her cousin, Louis, standing there, ready to give her detention.

            It _was_ one of her cousins, but fortunately, not Louis. James stood there looking half awake, holding a piece of parchment down by his side.

            “What are you doing, Rosie?” he asked sleepily.

            “Nothing,” she whispered. “Go back to bed.”

            “You’re sneaking out,” he said. “I’d hardly call that nothing.”

            Rose glared at him, annoyed. “Since when do you care who’s sneaking out at night?”

            “Normally, I don’t,” James replied. He walked over to her and grinned. “But since Lily already took the cloak, you might as well take the map.”

            “Why’d did Lily need the cloak?” Rose asked lowly, taking the map from him. He made a face and started back toward to the staircase.

            “Since she took it from my trunk when she thought I wasn’t looking, I’d say it has something to do with a boy.”

            _Probably one of the Scamander twins_ , Rose thought. She started to say something but stopped herself. Considering what she was doing, she really didn’t have any room to talk. Instead, she said, “Thanks, James. I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

            He waved a hand dismissively. “Night, Rose,” he said, disappearing up the spiral staircase. Rose exhaled slowly and then turned back to the portrait hole. Before she left the common room, she glanced at the map to make sure there were no teachers patrolling nearby. Seeing that the way was clear, Rose pushed the portrait so it swung open and climbed down into the corridor.

            Without having to stop and peak around corners, Rose made it to the fifth floor more quickly than usual. She checked the map once more, then crept down the corridor, stopping in front of a painting of a wizard brewing an elaborate potion. She pulled out her wand and pressed the tip to a bundle of herbs lying on the wizard’s worktable. “Belladonna,” she whispered.

            A soft click sounded from behind the frame, and the painting slid silently to the side, revealing a dark opening. Not bothering to put her wand away, Rose pulled herself through the entrance. The painting slid back into place behind her, plunging the space into darkness.  

            After a moment’s pause, Rose raised her hand and ran it along the smooth stone ceiling. When her fingers encountered a bulb of heavy glass, she tapped it with the tip of her wand and whispered, “Lumos.” Light immediately flared to life, filling the sphere and allowing her to see the tunnel she was standing in. Identical bulbs of glass lined the ceiling, and as she moved down the tunnel, the light followed her, leaping from sphere to sphere.

            _I always forget how good he is at charms_ , she thought.

            It wasn’t a particularly long journey, but her exhaustion and impatience made it seem endless. It had been a long week, and Rose had spent most of her free time studying. O.W.Ls were drawing ever closer, and with the summer term more than half over, she found that she couldn’t distance herself from the reality of the exams as easily as she had before the Easter holidays.

            Finally, the tunnel came to an end, opening up into a small room empty of furniture and decoration. Moonlight streamed through the dusty, uneven glass of a large window set into the wall opposite Rose. Stowing her wand beneath her cloak, Rose pushed open the window pane, climbing outside and dropping down onto a small balcony overlooking the lake.

            “What is it Scor?” she asked, crossing her arms and staring at the tall, lean figure leaning against the balustrade.

            “Nice to see you too, Rose,” Scorpius said sarcastically, turning to look at her. His pale blonde hair gleamed white in the moonlight. His gray eyes, already pale, seemed equally as colorless.

            “It’s too late for games,” Rose said. “What was so important that you had to drag me out of bed at two in the morning?”

            “The match tomorrow,” answered Scorpius.

            “What about it?”

            “Tell your cousin to check all of your brooms before the game starts. Don’t let anyone fly,” Scorpius said flatly.

            A chill crept down Rose’s spine. “Why? What’s wrong?”

            Scorpius sighed unhappily. “I didn’t know until just now, okay? Or I would have told you sooner. Flint and Goyle hexed your lot’s brooms.”

            “But James said he locked them all up,” she said, frowning.

            Scorpius shrugged. “Apparently not as well as he thought. If you don’t want to break your neck tomorrow, tell him to have Madame Hooch check the brooms.”

            “I will,” Rose said grimly. “I’m actually rather fond of my neck.” She paused. “Why tell me though? That’s your team. If Madame Hooch traces the hexes back to their wands, Slytherin will be disqualified.”

            “I know that,” snapped Scorpius.

            “Then why tell me?”

            “Why tell—bloody hell, Rose, do you think I want you hurt? Even to win the Cup?” All of a sudden he looked very angry, his gray eyes sparking as he glared at Rose.

            “No, but—”

            “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot,” Scorpius said harshly. Bitterness replaced the anger in his gaze, and he slumped back against the railing. “I am a Slytherin, after all. I’d probably put a curse on my own mother if I thought it would work out to my advantage.”

            “I didn’t say that, Scor,” Rose said quietly, placing a hand on his arm.

            “But you were thinking it,” he replied sullenly. “You and everyone else in the damn school.”

            “No I wasn’t, I—” Rose stopped, watching Scorpius closely. “What’s this really about?” she asked quietly.

            For a second, she thought he wasn’t going to reply. And then he looked up and locked eyes with her. “I heard you and Lily this morning. Out in the greenhouse.”

            “. . . oh.” Everything clicked into place. Rose had been helping Professor Sprout out with the third year Herbology class, and Lily had stayed after to talk with her cousin. Lily had been telling Rose all about a second year Slytherin boy who fancied her. She could hear Lily even now, disdain lacing her voice as she practically spat, “As if I’d ever date a _Slytherin_.”

            And she had replied, “As if.”

            Rose’s stomach plummeted. “Scor, we’re friends. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t talking about _you_.”

            “Right,” he said acerbically. “Just all the other Slytherins, right?”

            “You know what I meant,” Rose said defensively. “Most of the people in your house don’t give the rest of us the time of day.” She couldn’t help tacking on, _“Especially_ not the children of blood traitors and mubloods.”

            “You think I don’t know that?” Scorpius said loudly.

            “So what did you want me to do? Start an argument with my cousin in the middle of the greenhouse? With Professor Sprout three rows away?”

            “See, that’s the problem with you people,” he snarled. “All you want to do is preach tolerance and acceptance at people like me, but then you’re not willing to walk the walk.”

            “This is ridiculous,” Rose retorted. “I’m not doing this with you at two thirty in the bloody morning.”

            “Okay, Rosie,” Scorpius said mockingly. “Go back to bed. When you wake up, maybe everything will be better.” He turned away, but not before Rose saw the hurt and pain raging behind his eyes. Her own anger immediately fell away, replaced by real sorrow.          

            “Scor, I didn’t mean it,” she whispered. “Really, I didn’t.” He grunted but still wouldn’t look at her. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she said softly, “Please, just look at me.”

            Rose felt Scorpius stiffen beneath her hand, and then he spun, grabbing her by the shoulders and pinning her up against the wall. Before Rose could make a sound, he kissed her, his lips blazing against her own.

            Gasping, Rose pulled away from him. They stared at each other for a second, and then Rose worked her arms free of Scorpius’s grasp. Agony flashed across his face and he started to turn away again. But before he could move, Rose grabbed him by the collar and pulled his head down so she could press her lips against his. She felt him shudder as he wrapped her in his arms, returning her kiss with more passion than she ever could have imagined. They clung to each other, their lips moving hungrily, trying to communicate everything that they felt that they couldn’t put into words.

            “You know,” Rose murmured in between kisses, “you could’ve just kissed me at the beginning and saved yourself a lot of trouble.”

            He chuckled as she buried her face in his shoulder. Shaking his head, he whispered, “I wanted to be sure.” He pressed his lips to her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

            Rose tilted her head up to look at him. “Were you?”

            Laughing, Scorpius said, “Not in the slightest.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always fun. Let met know what you thought, if you want more, etc. As usual, apologies for any mistakes.


End file.
